poem index

sign up to receive a new poem-a-day in your inbox

And the Intrepid Anthurium

Pura López-Colomé
Two bumblebees
extract nectar,
sweet and bitter
from the center
of the rose-colored petals
of a flower which is not a rose.
Sated,
they thud against the picture window
again and again,
fixed on escaping
with their bounty inside them,
into the air behind them,
incognizant that the path to freedom
has been eclipsed,
incognizant
that they are drawn
to an illusion.
With the blood honey
in their guts
already a part of their
rapturous marrow.
And distinct.

From Watchword by Pura Lopez Colome. Copyright © 2012 by Pura López-Colomé and Forrest Gander. Reprinted with permission of Wesleyan University Press. All rights reserved.

From Watchword by Pura Lopez Colome. Copyright © 2012 by Pura López-Colomé and Forrest Gander. Reprinted with permission of Wesleyan University Press. All rights reserved.

Pura López-Colomé

by this poet

poem
Reanimated, spirit restored, 
reincorporated, body restored, 
I contemplate between dreams 
the scene I've stolen 
like the one who took fire, 
like the one who opened the devil box 
out of curiosity, 
like the one who saw her equal 
and her life's love 
were the same and so effortlessly 
brought them together
poem
This world.
 
A sound sometimes dry,
metallic,
at times rubbery,
has settled the morning for good.
It has darkened little by little
the songs of various birds,
the croak of the daily,
wind among hedges,
the green yearning.
A man places with inexhaustible precision
one tile after the another on the roof of the